Nightmare
by WhimsicalMayhem
Summary: Feliciano ran. The streets around him were dark; they were always dark. The cobblestones were slippery with the recent rain and his feet struggled to get a grip. Footsteps followed him. GerIta ONESHOT


_**Nightmare**_

_To Pharon. I originally wrote this for you a while ago, but forgot about it cuz I thought it was crap. I recently found it again and, upon reading it, found that time was the best judge._

_If you've already read it by some chance, then that's cool too. But without further ado, onto the show._

_Oh God. Oh God_.

Feliciano ran. The streets around him were dark; they were always dark. The cobblestones were slippery with the recent rain and his feet struggled to get a grip. Footsteps followed him. Making a split decision, he dashed down another darkened alleyway.

"Feli? Feli, why do you run from me?" the voice echoed, shooting up and down Italy's spine and making him run faster. Cold fear clamped his stomach and spread through his veins. His heart seemed to beat so fast it would leap from his chest and spill upon the slippery track. His mind was racing with every possible thought, narrowed down to one action;

_Run. Can't let him get me._

The world shook for a moment, sending Feliciano sprawling across the cobbles. Scrambling up, he turned a sharp corner in a desperate attempt to gain lost ground.

"Feeeeeeeeeeliiiiiiiiiii," the person called, dragging his name out in a teasing fashion. His stomach revolted at the effect the noise had upon his ears; he was sure he was about to be sick.

He wanted to forget. Why; why was he here? It had been so long ago! Awake, he had accepted it; it didn't bother him.

But in his dreams...in his dreams he was always stronger, always faster, always dominant...

Italy ran further into the labyrinth of alleys. The darkness around him seemed thick and distorting; like water. He wasn't running as fast as he should, as if weights were attached to his ankles and wrists. The world around his seemed to undulate until his surroundings were unrecognizable; spinning and moving and twisting in a watery world of disorientation. He stumbled, landing hard on his side and letting out a light groan. Fighting to get back up again, the spinning world prevented him from doing anything more than getting on his knees. Clutching at the small golden Cross charm he knew should be around his neck, he was about to start praying.

"Feli? Are you there?"

"N-no!" shouted Feliciano, "Leave me alone!"

"Don't you love me, Feli? I love you."

"No! You...you hurt me. Go away!"

Italy jumped when a hand slowly slithered onto his shoulder.

"Well," The man's hot breath flowed over Feliciano's neck, causing him to flinch. "It won't hurt as much this time."

"No!"

"Italy."

"Go away!"

"Italy..."

"DONT TOUCH ME!"

"ITALY!"

Italy's eyes flew open and he shot up right, slamming his head against somebody else's with a painful _crack_.

"Verdammt!" exclaimed the other person, but Feliciano ignored that. Gazing around, while ignoring the throbbing pain in his head, he realized he was in a bedroom; no his, but Ludwig's. Not surprising really; he slept in there almost every night. What _did _take him off guard, however, was that he _wasn't _in an alleyway with _that evil man _chasing after him.

"Mein Gott Italy, wha-" Ludwig stopped halfway through his statement to examine the smaller man. His breaths came short and fast; as if he were hyperventilating. His auburn hair was matted to his face where cold sweat drenched his forehead and made his shirt cling to his chest. He was shaking and tense; his eyes glazed over and staring intently at the wall opposite the room.

Germany's anger faded as he saw the Italian so shaken. Reaching out, he hesitantly put a hand on Feliciano's shoulder.

"Italy?"

Italy flinched away from his touch, as if it had burned him.

"Italy...what's wrong? Did you have a bad dream?"

It took a moment for the smaller nation to speak, and when he did, he seemed far off and dazed.

"Hm? Oh. Y-yeah. Bad dream...really bad dream..." He seemed to hug himself, wrapping his arms around his chest and gripping his shoulder.

Ludwig sighed. A sudden need to hold the man ached in his chest. He just look so scared. But what if he frightened him again? Took his approach the wrong way?

His answer came in the form of Feliciano just lightly gripping his hand.

Italy was...pleasantly surprised when large, warm arms engulfed his body, Germany's firm chest flush against his back. He was pulled into the German's lap, Ludwig's chin comming torest on the crook of the Italians' neck.

"G-Germany?"

"It's okay Italy." Germany attempted. Italy relaxed in his arms, albeit, still trembling slightly. After a while, he finally managed to find his voice.

"It was about him again."

Ludwig nodded. "Ja, I had a feeling."

"You weren't there to save me though. I was all alone."

Germany's arms around his tightened, pulling him closer.

"I will always be there."

"...Yeah, I know. Or else you would have left me by now."

"That's a stupid thing to say. I would never leave you."

"...Yeah. I know that now."

Italy would barely remember the conversation the next morning. The dream would disappear into the vast forgetfulness that was Feliciano's mind.

But that was okay with Germany.

He loved him anyways.

_FIN_


End file.
